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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/637300-Angel
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Emotional · #637300
A short story about a man infatuated with a woman and the emotions that he goes through.
Can you imagine what it would be like? Us, together, just you and me. I see her leaning against the wall, arms crossed, thin delicate fingers slowly tapping on her triceps. The edges of a smile form at her lips. Her mouth bends upward slightly. Her gaze drifts downward, avoiding meeting my eyes as she blushes at my words.

A strand of thin black hair creeps out from behind her ear, falling across her face. She uncrosses her arms, meets my eyes for a second, then tucks the hair back behind her ear. God am I in love with this woman.

I see her across the room. Go. Ask her. Can you imagine? Watch as her eyes light up. Her already perfect complexion begins to glow.

A pause, a deep breath. She is so perfect. An angel. Skin as smooth as a baby. Tall, lean. Long legs that keep on rising. Thin, but not too thin. A flat stomach leading to the small bumps in her shirt. Well dressed, leaving everything to the imagination. A long slender neck protrudes from her collar. Black hair brushes against her skin. I want to put my hand on the back of her neck, trace her outlines with my hands. Perfect. A woman who can stop any man mid-sentence with a sideways glance and an innocent smile.

Her face is purely angelic. A small nose between her high cheekbones. Big innocent eyes that are impossible to look away from. And that smile. When I see that smile my heart stops, melting like butter on a hot summer day. I feel weak. My breath quickens. There’s a pounding in my chest. I can’t get any air. I start to suffocate every time that she smiles. It’s worth it. Gorgeous.

I’m afraid if she smiles at me I won’t be able to take it. My heart will swell up. I’ll forget how to breathe. She’ll look at me and smile and I’ll just collapse in front of her. “He saw an angel and his heart burst.” That’s what I would want on my gravestone.

She looks up and I quickly turn away. Did she see me? How long have I been staring? Five years. All through high school. After all these years I still can’t take my eyes off of her. I’ve seen lots of girls, but I never talk to them. It wouldn’t be fair to them. Not after I’ve seen Sarah. She’s immeasurable, perfect.

Maybe I should finally talk to her. We’ve exchanged a few words before. “Hi,” she would say as I passed her in the store or on the street. I’d smile suddenly, feeling completely alive. Say something. Too late. She’s already moved on. Stupid.

She laughs. I watch. I feel like rubber inside. Everything about her is perfect. I see her thin, soft lips, white teeth as she laughs. As she talks I can see her tongue moving behind her teeth. That’s so sexy. I hear that she wants to be a doctor. This is just too much.

She has the kind of laugh that lights up a room. I smile along with her from a distance. Her voice sings as she talks. Listening to her soothes my soul, puts my mind at ease. Whenever I see her, I spend the rest of the day light on my feet, whistling happy songs to myself. Just seeing her makes me want to become a better man.

What should I tell her? What can I say? I had a dream about you once. No. She would probably hit me. She wouldn’t understand. It was unforgettable. The best time of my life and it never even happened. It wasn’t like that, I’d have to explain. All we did was spend the day together. We talked, walking everywhere. I think we were at the fair. I might have even held her in my arms once. It’s hard to remember. That’s the way dreams are. It was the best dream I’ve ever had. I woke up with a big grin on my face, feeling like I was the luckiest man on earth. For a moment, I think I actually was.

Can you imagine it Sarah? I would open every door, pull out every chair. Cook you dinner every night and buy you everything you want. Tell me what your favorite flower is. I’ll get you a dozen. What’s your favorite color? I feel like painting the house. Just let me hold you in my arms. All I want is to watch you sleep. I want to look at you without the fear of having to look away. I want to look into your eyes, be the one who makes you smile.

This girl is perfect.

I want to meet her family, talk to her friends. Ask them, Isn’t she absolutely perfect. If they disagree I want to convince them that she is. She is everything. I want to know what she eats for breakfast. I want to know what shampoo she uses. I want to smell her hair, run my fingers through it, hold her hands in mine.

I see her smile again. I imagine her looking at me. This must be what heaven feels like. Sarah looking at me with her innocent eyes, hopeful smile. Looking at me like I’m the only person in the world that matters. I think my heart is going to burst.

I take a breath. Rub the back of my neck. I think I’m starting to sweat. My heart is racing, pounding like a stampede in my chest. I walk forward, try to open my mouth. Nothing comes out. My mouth is dry. I try to swallow the nervous lump in my throat.

“Hey, Sarah.”

Her eyes turn, meeting mine. Oh my God. She is so beautiful. My head is beginning to throb. I feel like I can barely stand. She looks at me, directly at me. She gives me a funny look, thinking for a moment.

“Hey . . . Jeff, right?”

I see her smile at me. I feel like an idiot. The smile on my face must look ridiculous. “Yeah, I’m Jeff.”
© Copyright 2003 J. Peters just got published! (jpeters430 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/637300-Angel